Draw the Curtain
by ToastedPine
Summary: A Ranma-chan fic attempted by someone who couldn't stand them. Ranma learns that being someone else isn't as easy as it seems. Follow Ranma as she retraces the steps to one Murasaki Sayaka's near demise.
1. Chapter 1

Author's foreword: I wrote this with the intent of creating Rankofiction that I could stand reading. I'm honestly not sure if I've succeeded in that endeavor, but I did learn a lot about the process and why people who write Rankofics think the way they do.

Disclaimer: I don't own Ranma 1/2

She met her at a platform's edge, beneath the muffled buzz of relentless summer rain. Ranma, damp paper bag wedged forgotten under one arm, stared wide-eyed and frozen at the woman. Her mind ran through a dozen bizarre-yet-all-too-likely scenarios form ghosts to mirror clones, none of which helped her get a clue in the least.

The woman was in her mid-twenties and possessed mature features that separated a teenage girl from a true woman. However, despite her bountiful curves, or the sodden, yellow sundress that preserved very little modesty, Ranma couldn't feel her blood warming. Instead of a beautiful woman who had tried unsuccessfully to take shelter from the rain, what stood before her was more a living corpse.

Pale skin and white lips, which at some point may have held the rosiness of life, only served as a macabre complement to those dull, soulless eyes. On anyone else, Ranma may have been slightly concerned, and then forgotten the incident without a preamble --other people's troubles were no concern of hers, after all-- but the face she was looking at, the face that seemed like the embodiment of death itself, was almost exactly like an older version of her own.

Ranma opened her mouth, trying to ask the questions that had formed in her mind. Who was this woman? What had broken her spirit? Where had she come from? Sadly, the questions had raced out all at once, crashing into each other and pilling up in her throat, breaking apart into stuttered heaps.

A small light lit in the woman's eyes, and, as though seeing Ranma for the first time, she smiled. It was a smile so absolutely empty that it sent a hollow chill right through to the bone. Wheels baring the weight of steel and passengers approached steadily, like rolling urban thunder. Ranma, giving up on talking, began to reach out.

Then the woman took one step forward.

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Draw the Curtain:  
Prologue

By

ToastedPine

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Another tiny monolith was stood on its end, its surface reflecting the light radiating from fluorescent tubes above. One more followed the previous, completing a new segment in the winding pattern of rows that filled the floor of the slowly decaying office. Beside leather-bound volumes of the Adventures of Detective Kudo, over ramps made of playing cards, the standing tiles ran in lines. They continued past framed pictures of young men and women in blue uniform, their ranks blind to proud smiles, unblinking to tenderly clutched parchments, unmindful of all save their common end by a black-lacquered rotary phone.

Narutaki Shinichi straightened from his hunch and examined his work. It had taken most of the day, but he was done: a ten-to-one likeness of his badge rendered in domino. Some would say that the activity was an enormous waste of time, and they would probably be right. On the other hand, his father had taught him that domino laying was also an exercise in ingenuity, control, and most important, patience.

He'd been freshly raised, only a year out of the academy, onto the cushy mantle of Inspector. Shinichi had no illusions as to the cause-- no one could advance so quickly. A few of the brass were attempting to ingratiate themselves to his commissioner father. And if giving him almost nothing to do wasn't enough indication that he was to sit pretty, the fact that he had been left in this old building while the rest of police headquarters had been relocated was a neon sign slammed to his head. Running a finger over the domino's black bumps, Shinichi tried to suppress yet another bubble of irritation from rising. This waiting would end, it had to. All he needed was a single tiny nudge, a careless gesture that would send him on his way to earning his promotion and the respect of his peers.

Shinichi snatched the phone from its cradle as soon as it rang, the domino pocketed reflexively.

"Narutaki speaking." He listened, grip tightening on the black handle. "Attempted suicide? An actress… I see. Where?"

Shinichi opened his desk drawer and pulled out a pen and pad. "Omotesando Station… ask for Officer Imahara. Phone number…. Got it, thank you."

Stuffing the note in his pocket, he snatched the tan jacket that was hanging off a hook by the door and went to find the wheezing rust-bucket that was his patrol car.

An actress had thrown herself in front of a train and an investigator needed to be on the scene to make sure there was no foul play involved. To his superiors, Shinichi's true function was to keep rumor from spreading, which involved having a stern word with all the witnesses about keeping their silence. It was a job that would have him playing 'good cop bad cop' all day, something he enjoyed about as much as cleaning toilets.

Naturally, he could decline being damage control, but then all he really needed was one tiny nudge-- just one.

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When Shinichi arrived at Omotesando station, the trains had already been rerouted and guards placed at the entrances to divert foot traffic. He stood on the tracks, looking at a patch of packed earth and stone that lay beneath the track. Even in the thoroughly soaked earth from the seemingly relentless summer rain, he could see the darker spots clearly; the actress had lost quite a bit of blood.

He would learn nothing from visiting the scene, but he thought he should anyways. Clapping his hands together, he bowed his head and prayed. Murasaki Sayaka, age 24, was an up-and-coming actress of period films and daytime soaps. From the debriefing he had conducted when he arrived, it was a fairly straight-forward suicide attempt. The paramedics had arrived in time thanks to the quick actions of a civilian, though oddly enough, he hadn't heard a word about the identity of the actress's savior.

No motive had yet been discovered. By all indications, the actress's personal life and career were going well. The pattern wasn't unheard of, however; success could supposedly come with hidden pressures. Shinichi didn't care much for such excuses. If they couldn't deal with success, they should have quit. Making a scene like this would was good for no one except the tabloids. Still, he prayed that the actress would find peace and wake from her coma a better person.

"Inspector Narutaki!" A short man in his early twenties trotted over, puffing from exertion.

"Officer Imahara?" Shinichi said matching the voice he had heard on the phone. The officer nodded once in affirmative. "What's the hurry?" he asked, wanting to put off his duties for as long as possible.

"They've finished gathering and prescreening everyone's identity at the security station. Nothing out of the ordinary, except for," the officer hesitated. "We wanted to make sure that there was an actual relation before we told you, but she's refusing to cooperate. She's the one who saved Ms. Murasaki and..." Imahara shook his head "You'll just have to see it to believe it."

Shinichi wondered what the commotion was about. A mysterious savior was something right out of a detective novel, but life rarely worked out to be that exciting. Well, Imahara was traffic division-- an incident like this was probably a big deal to him.

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Shinichi rubbed his palms together them pressed them over his eyes-- the warmth seeped through his eyelids, soothing some of the sting. It had been grueling, sitting on a rickety stool for the past three hours, talking to nearly thirty witnesses, and making sure they understood that not a word could be said before the police were ready with a formal statement. Part of his difficulties came from how nosey people were. His mouth had gone dry from repeating that they weren't entitled to any information on the person they had seen jump in front of the train. Most of the people he spoke to were years or decades his senior, which made it hard for him to put his foot down. The badge helped surprisingly little in that regard.

Putting hands against the small table that matched the stools, Shinichi levered himself into standing. He wished that they had more they had more comfortable chairs, or at least some cubicle walls that didn't smell of pressed plastic and heated styrofoam. Rubbing his shoulder and rotating his arm, he stepped out of the cubicle to address the man waiting just outside.

"Bring her in, Officer." Imahara had been assigned as his aid, though from personal choice or being ordered to do so, Shinichi did not know. Honestly, he felt a little bad ordering the man about: fetching files, serving tea, and sending for food. On the other hand, this was the first time running that show instead of being an assistant so he was a little too tired to care. He would have been even more worn out had he been left to his own devices.

Shinichi had left the mysterious savior for last in the hopes that he would uncover something from the other accounts. He turned up nothing, but it was a good habit nonetheless.

Soon, the mystery savior came to view, escorted by Imahara.

The shorter man was right when he said he had to see her himself. She was small, even for a Japanese woman, but with a chest size that rivaled the best he'd seen. Not that he was paying attention to such things, he reminded himself as he focused on her face.

The color of her eyes and her reddish hair was different, but the cheekbones, eye shape, nose length, and lips matched: she could have been a younger version of Murasaki Sayaka. Belatedly, he realized that she was none too happy to see him-- her arms crossed over her chest as if she had caught him looking. Shinichi had the decency to blush, but he pretended not to notice.

Clearing his throat he greeted her and held out his hand. "Hi, I'm Inspector Narutaki."

Instead of accepting his greeting, she went ahead and plopped onto a ready stool. Narutaki hid his grimace and took his own seat.

"You were very brave and thought quickly," he opened. "Ms. Murasaki owes you her life." Ms. Murasaki's status was strictly confidential. He would have preferred not telling her anything, but she looked tough and he needed to soften her by throwing out something.

For a second, he thought he saw pride flash in the woman's eyes, but then her shoulders drooped and she gripped the edge of the table as if she needed it to keep from sinking to the floor. He blinked. He hadn't expected that piece of information to work so well. Did she have genuine concern for the actress? It was difficult not to jump to conclusions. What were the chances that Ms Murasaki would choose to commit suicide at a station near her studio, and just happen to be saved by a woman who could have been her double?

"Owes me her life? Is... is she okay?"

Shinichi nearly flinched at the concern in her voice, but he did have a job to do. "I'm sorry, I can't release that information to just anyone. Do you happen to know her? If you'd just give us your name and contact number, I could arrange for some communication."

Ranko narrowed her eyes at him. Shinichi swallowed. He really needed to work on his interrogation skills. "First time I've ever seen her in my life," she said. "And it's fine, I'm no one. Happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time is all. Are we done here?"

She's 'no one?' Did that imply she wasn't important or that she didn't want anyone to know who she was? If not, then why? He didn't like secrets. A small part of him asked why he was trying so hard. Technically, she hadn't done anything wrong. He had no basis to hold her at the station. He was also willing to bet his badge that this redhead wasn't the type who could cause Ms. Murasaki to attempt a suicide. So why couldn't he let her go and get back to his waiting game?

"At least let us have your name," he paused. It would be a gamble but he'd take responsibility for it later if it ever came to that. "Ms. Murasaki is being held at Keio University Hospital-- IC ward. The last I heard was that she's in a coma. But I think she'd want to know who saved her when she wakes. I don't see why an upstanding citizen such as yourself would decline."

The woman, who was about to leave, sat back down. She appraised him for a few moments, sharp blue eyes weighing.

"I didn't do nothin' to no one," Ranko snapped. "The name's Ranko, try not to wear it out."

Shinichi's irritation flared. Inspector or not, he was still police and a civilian had no right to talk to him that way. He forced himself to calm. Three of the witnesses had been able to identify Ms. Murasaki and had commented on how they weren't aware of the actress having any living relatives. He'd have to check the family's registry.

A panicked cry rang from beyond the cubicle walls. It was Imahara.

"Sir, you can't go in there! This is an official police investigation!" Imahara came into view at the cubicle's opening, trying prevent the man from walking in on the interrogation. Tall and slim, the new arrival wouldn't have looked out of place as the leading man in a women's television drama. Long arms easily swept the short officer aside like a dry leaf on a walkway.

"My apologies, but any further questions will have to go through me," the man said in smooth baritone.

He turned his head towards Ranko and knelt by her quickly that his unbuttoned raincoat fluttered like a cape as it settled to the ground. "Are you alright?" he asked, cupping her hands in his.

Shinichi couldn't see the man's eyes, which were hidden behind darkly tinted half-framed glasses. On the other hand, Ranko was an open book, goggling like some air-headed groupie. He hadn't figured her for the type, but that was what he saw.

Imahara, who had been pushed aside, bowed repeatedly in apology. Shinichi nodded to reassure the officer that he was not at fault.

Shinichi loudly cleared his throat. "Who are you, and what gives you the right to barge in like this?"

The man dusted off his pants, and pulled himself up, his deliberately slow manner seeming to communicate superiority. Shinichi quickly shoved his hands into his pockets.

The tall man gave an apologetic smile which didn't soften the cool condescension held in his eyes one bit. "Where are my manners," he handed the Inspector a plain business card.

"Kogino Jin. I am Miss Murasaki Sayaka's agent. No doubt you've been having trouble getting the answers you wish from this young lady. It's a little complicated so please allow me to answer any and all questions you may have."

Shinichi switched from looking at the pretty-boy to Ranko. What would Ms. Murasaki's agent have to do with this girl? Unless….

"I take it she's a relative?" he said.

"Yes. She is."

Shinichi cursed internally. Ranko had lied. What was she? A sister? Maybe a cousin?

"Waita min--!" Ranko started.

"You will choose to keep your peace," Kogino said with an edge that could have been used to cut stone.

Surprisingly, the redhead complied. What had Ranko wanted to say? Something didn't feel right to him. He just couldn't put his finger on what.

The agent swept a hand over his long, raven hair that was pulled back into a ponytail that dangled over his raincoat. Bringing up his right arm, he glanced at his watch. "I'm sorry, Inpector, my schedule is very tight. We really do have to go," he said, offering Ranko his hand. She ignored it and stood on her own.

"Our lawyer, Mr. Kawamura, will be by shortly to clear up the release procedures. If you have any more questions for Miss Murasaki, we'd be more than willing to set a date through him."

'Setting a date' was Kogino Jin's way of saying that his investigation was about to be blocked. Shinichi couldn't keep the heat from his voice when he said, "How gracious of you, I'll be sure to take advantage of that offer."

Kogino Jin strode away without hesitation, completely confident that Shinichi would not hinder their departure. Ranko, for all the fire she had demonstrated earlier, followed like a lost puppy.

Taking a seat, Shinichi took the domino out of his pocket while replaying as much of the interview as he could in his head. Kogino Jin and Ranko were not on the same page. More than that, Ranko was being forced into silence. Kogino Jin had a hold on her and Shinichi suspected that the same applied to Murasaki Sayaka-- a hold so strong that it may have been nearly fatal.

Shinichi vowed that he would get to the bottom of it.

Author's Notes:

Omotesando Station is not the same one as in reality. The one I've used in this story is above ground as opposed to a subway.

Thanks to my main prereaders Fallacy and Yasuhei.

A special thanks to all the people at the Fukufics and TFF forums who've spent effort of giving me constructive criticisms and corrections. This fic wouldn't be even half the quality it is now without them. I promise I'll keep better track of names for chapter 2.

contributors: Tari F (corrections)


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Ranma 1/2

The wisps of steam wafting to her face did nothing seemed a cold comfort to Kasumi's concern. From the outside, she looked perfectly calm, the very image of the Tendo matriarch that she had stubbornly cultivated since the passing of their mother. Not a lot could faze her. On the hand....

It was an hour past dinner and Ranma was still missing!

She understood the habits of normal teenagers, being out until eight o'clock wouldn't warrant a second thought from most parents-- let alone siblings. Then again, Ranma and ordinary were not exactly on a first name basis with one another. Since the two years he'd come to the dojo, he hadn't missed a single dinner without the most urgent of reasons.

Since Ranma and his father came, her family was just that much brighter. Father was no longer in his half-waking slump, Nabiki no longer seemed so distant, and Akane smiled more-- though her youngest sister was also angry more often. For these reasons, for accomplishing what all her playing house could not, Kasumi forgave the Saotomes' many flaws and accepted them as part of her family.

Akane had returned well before dinner from her summer activities with the drama club, and had said she hadn't seen Ranma all day. A call to Ukyo's and the Nekohanten turned up nothing as well. Ranma didn't go many places so Kasumi leads had quickly run dry, which left her waiting at the family room, tea in hand and a plate of food at her side.

Nabiki walked by, carrying folded clothes,

"Kasumi?" her little sister questioned, eyes darting to the food Kasumi had set aside before returning to her. "If you're waiting for Ranma, I'm not sure where he is. I sent him out on an errand hours ago, he should have been back."

Leave it to Nabiki to read her mind from a few clues. Kasumi had always been closer to Nabiki. They understood each other in a way that they didn't Akane, who they both saw as their baby sister. Nabiki could be read, you just had to know what to look for. For example, Nabiki never bathed after changing into her home clothes unless she was bothered by something.

"An errand?" Kasumi didn't frown-- though she came pretty close. The rain had stopped over an hour ago. "You don't think he got caught in the rain, did he? But why didn't he call home?"

Nabiki scratched her cheek, causing Kasumi's eyes to narrow.

"Ahehehe… I… may have cleaned him out before I sent him off."

"Nabiki!"

She held up he hands in a placating gesture that resembled their father. "Now now, Kasumi. How was I supposed to know that the rain would last this long? Besides, the doofus should have come home by now... and that was the wrong thing to say." Nabiki sighed when Kasumi bit her lip.

"If it makes you feel any better, we can go look for him. Let's give him another hour. Ranma can take care of himself, and you wouldn't want him to come home to an empty house and a cold meal would you?"

Kasumi fidgeted, propriety and instinct warring inside. "I…. suppose you're right--"

"Good." Nabiki grinned. "I'm going to get clean. This humidity is something else. How can you stand being in that dress?"

Kasumi would have told Nabiki if her sister had cared enough to listen.

Perhaps stronger tea was in order.

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Draw the Curtain:

Chapter 1

By

ToastedPine

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The rain had cleared, leaving the air pleasantly cool. Ranma followed the agent out of the police station, shame filling her down to the toes for allowing herself to be led along. All she could think of was that she was getting away. She knew that whoever this Kogino Jin was, he'd make her regret it later, but the relief of not having his curse revealed though the mass media was messing with her ability to think long term about anything else. There was a big difference between the kids at school, who he generally knew were harmless, and all of Japan. As much as it had become part of his life, Ranma didn't like the curse. There were always people doubting her manhood or splashing her with water to satisfy their curiosity. Ucchan had only stopped after Ranma had gotten wrinkly on the day the made up.

"Why the heck did you lie to the cops? When they find out, we're both going to jail!"

Kogino Jin took off dark-tinted glasses, revealing slate-grey eyes that seemed to draw the surrounding heat.

"You're glad that you're out of there," he said without the least bit of doubt. "I don't expect your thanks, nor should you give it. I've done what I have for my own interests."

Ranma's hands twitched, she wanted to teach the guy a lesson, but she couldn't. Pop never had told him outright that hitting the weak was bad, but not once had she seen him fight non-martial-artists unless they were after him with lethal intent. Genma said a lot of things and did precious little, but the fat panda did still have a shred of decency in him-- threadbare as it was.

"I see." Ranma glared. "So that's it? Are we done? Because if we are, I'm going to get started on lying low, and if you're smart, so should you. Why are you even here?"

"I was informed while they were administering first aid. By the time I arrived, they had already relocated her. I overheard some of the station staff mention a brave young woman who might have been a sister to the woman who has attempted to committed suicide. There was nothing to be done for Sayaka so I stayed."

Ranma gaped. He may as well have been talking about going to wash his car. "You're either crazy or one cold sunovabitch. I don't care either way. Have a nice life, pal." She began to walk away.

"What if I told you I could make it so that I wasn't lying?" Jin asked.

Ranma stopped, turning slowly. "And how do you propose to do that?" she barked a laugh. "You know what? Forget it. Even if you could pull something off, what do you think I could possibly do for you? You don't even know me."

"I don't need to," Kogino Jin said. "You have all that I require. What is your decision? If you want to leave, then leave. I am not going to force you to listen, but I also don't appreciate having my time wasted."

Ranma ground her teeth. She didn't want to give this guy an inch. It better be one heck of an explanation. If not, well, the smug bastard was going to be given just enough rope to hang himself, martial artist or not.

She crossed her arms. "Fine. Talk."

"I'd rather not speak in front of the police station, if you don't mind," Kogino Jin said dryly, causing Ranma's cheeks to redden. "There's a drinking establishment not too far from here that I need to visit, we can take my car."

"Fine, whatever," Ranma muttered discontentedly.

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They parked in a small lot behind an equally tiny building, a single street lamp at the front of the sidewalk by the building the only source of illumination. Moths fluttered towards the dim light, creating flickering shadows. Kogino Jin got out of the car and headed for the building's single, central backdoor.

The door was a cheap steel affair painted a rusty red. Kogino Jin knocked twice and the door opened on its own. Ranma followed him down a long narrow flight of stairs lined on either side by close, red brick walls until they reached another door nearly identical to the first. A wall-mounted camera whirred mechanically for a second, before a red pilot-light mounted above turned green, the lock released with a loud, mechanical clack.

Ranma was surrounded by the delicate clinking of glassware, melody of soft jazz, and the quiet noise and civil conversation. Polished redwood gleamed from every fixture and countertop. It was a heck of a lot classier than the discount sushi restaurants she had visited on occasion. People lounged and dined amiably, some giving Ranma a questioning glance as they were passed, but no one ever said anything. Kogino Jin was smiling and nodding, exchanging polite silent greetings with almost everyone including a man in his fifties who Ranma guessed was the proprietor.

They settled at a table separated from the bar by a sturdy wooden screen. A moment later, the proprietor provided them with two steaming cups and a pitcher of cream, bowing modestly before returning to his station.

Ranma lifted the cup, giving it a precursory sniff, which filling his senses with the rich, earthy aroma of coffee. Almost without thinking, she brought the cup to her lips and drew a mouthful, nearly gasping at the taste. Even taken black, the coffee was smooth and barely bitter. After being soaked to the bone and then left to air-dry at the station, it was like a warm hug after a long training trip.

"This is Sanae's, named after its original owner." The agent lifted his cup. "A space created exclusively for the famous to forget about the pressures of being under the public eye. There are a few rules in effect while we are in this establishment. None of them are binding, but everyone follows them all the same. One of these rules involve keeping silent about the affairs of all other patrons. We will not be disturbed."

Ranma drained her cup and placed it back on its saucer. "Nice that you're giving me the whole tour and all that, but get to the point. What makes you think I want anything you're selling?"

Kogino Jin languidly stirred sugar into his coffee, then placed the silver spoon on his napkin. His manner suggested relaxation, or would have if it weren't for the man's eyes. Ranma didn't like the intensity of his gaze, almost unblinking, studying her openly. "You don't want the police to know who you are, not even your name. You might have a criminal record. From the way you hold yourself, you're no pushover, but you don't have the presence of a thug." He put his dark-tinted glasses back on. "You'll need to work on how to hide your emotions."

"What are you talking about?" Ranma strained to keep her tone civil. He had been making very general guesses so far, but he was right, which annoyed her to no end.

"You looked proud when I said that you were no pushover," he went on as if she hadn't asked a question, "You've had a lot of training. All that bravado isn't just for show."

"Hey!"

Kogino Jin turned the cup in his hands. "The bag you left in the car-- I know the store it from, and they only sell designer goods. Since you're obviously not into high fashion yourself, it must be for someone else. You don't seem the type who'll give into demands easily, which leaves attachment, perhaps family. Whoever the contents of that bag is for, she must be someone you care enough about to do a favor."

"Hah!" Ranma jumped triumphantly, "I owed her. There's no way I'd like that mercenary." Almost as soon as the words left her mouth, Ranma felt his stare intensify. She fought down the urge to turn away.

"You'd do nothing to help this person if she were in trouble?"

"No... it's my duty to help when I can," she said.

"So you have a duty. Good."

"Not like I wanted to. Darned Pop forced me to stay."

"So you're staying in someone else's abode." Dark-tinted glasses reflected her image impassively. "I don't believe that you'd leave." He leaned closer. "And do you know why?"

Ranma met him stare for stare, trying to penetrate those lenses by the force of her will. "Enlighten me."

"Because you saved Sayaka." He pronounced every single word with the weight of a hammer coming down. "You're trying to hide that you care about others, even complete strangers, and you can't, not after doing what you have in front of all those people."

"You've been staying at someone else's house and formed a bond so strong that you'd come to the aid of one of the occupants despite your obvious distaste for her. People like you act tough, but inside, you've always wanted a home and I'm reasonably sure you've found one."

"So what if I have?" Ranma resented what the agent was implying, but he was right. Even with the fiancée problems and general weirdness, it was still where she felt most like herself. Nights when she lay gazing at the stars on the dojo roof, mornings eating watermelon by the koi pond, afternoons being welcomed home after school, these were among the countless memories that she'd never be able to throw away. For better or worse, in the short time that she'd lived at the Tendo Dojo, it had become her home.

Kogino Jin steepled his fingers. "If you don't want to leave for good, you need an identity for yourself-- one that will eliminate problems with the police. What I'm promising you for your cooperation is that identity, as Murasaki Sayaka's sister."

"A fake name?" Ranma asked.

"That depends on your definition of fake," he replied. "Would it be fake if you really were on the family register? She has no living family. There won't be anyone who can testify against your story. I plan to finalize the arrangements tonight with someone who works for the citizen identification registry. You can choose your own first name if you want or I could do it for you. By tomorrow, the police will see that you are part of the Murasaki family."

Ranma mulled the proposition over. She could just lay low, stay a guy until the police got tired of looking for her. Then again, the cops might be able to track down his girl form, which would lead to a bigger mess if she were found. How good were the Tokyo police anyway?

"Give me a sec. This is crazy." Ranko help up a hand, while using her free one to rub the bridge of her nose. This was getting too complicated too fast. First thing she needed was all the information.

"You still haven't told me what you expect in return for doing this. Anyways, won't people start asking questions when I suddenly have a new family?"

Kogino Jin smiled the kind of smile that seemed to darken the space around him. "That's the beauty of it. What's required to keep your new identity is the same thing that I require from you."

"Oh? And what's that?"

"Become an actress to take your sister's place."

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Nabiki put the final piece on the outfit that she laid atop her bed for a date she had for the following evening. The yellow hairpin was a particularly nice touch. Applied in just the right way, it could be used brighten the ace and give the impression of innocence, which was critical to nailing her mark.

"Well, that was a waste of time." Nabiki zipped the whole outfit back into a garment bag, and hung it thing in her closet... for the second time that night.

Exiting her room, she went to down the living room were Kasumi sat with, hands resting on her lap. Her big sister looked calm, but Nabiki knew that her elder sister tended to retreat into herself when something was bothering her. Dad once told her that Kasumi used to be a very delicate girl who cried at the smallest provocation. Nabiki sniffed at that. Kasumi had been iron at the core for as long as she could remember.

"It's almost ten," Kasumi said.

It took Nabiki a second to interpret it as a reminder that she had promised to go out and look for Ranma with her. She scratched her head, irritated at having to go through the trouble of getting dressed when she was already in her comfy home clothes. "Too bad Dad and Uncle Saotome have gone out drinking. I could have had them find Ranma for us."

Kasumi stood, smoothing non-existent wrinkles from her dress. "We should start now. I'm sure he's fine, but I'd like to make sure, and we can have a nice walk while we're at it."

Nabiki shook her head at Kasumi's fake cheer. "All right, let me get--" she cut off when he heard heavy steps coming from the entrance. She barely managed to dodge as Kasumi whisked by.

Nabiki blinked away her surprise and ran after Kasumi. It was Ranma. Nabiki noticed that his hair was wet. He had changed gender recently before coming home, which was odd since he usually waited until he got home to do that.

"Oh Ranma, you're wet. You should take a bath, and I'll heat up dinner for you after." Kasumi hovered over the pigtailed boy.

"Thanks Kasumi..." Ranma said softly, "I'm okay. Could you put the food in the fridge? I'll come down and eat on my own later."

"Saotome," Nabiki said.

Ranma held the paper bag towards her, and she took the handle automatically. "The bag got a little damp and wrinkled. Insides should be fine though."

She watched Ranma leadenly put one foot in front of the other. Something really must have happened today to sap that much energy from him. A prickling sensation danced across the back of her neck. Kasumi was staring at her without any anger, ire, or disappointment. She was just... staring.

Nabiki took a step back, feeling sweat beading on her forehead. "What?"

"I do hope you talk to him. After he's rested a little, maybe?" Kasumi's smile was blindingly angelic.

"Uh... I don't think that's a good idea. You saw him. He's tired. We should leave him alone until he'd good and ready to tell us what happened. He's a little worse for wear. You know Ranma; he'll bounce back soon enough."

Kasumi said nothing. The subtle pressure settling on Nabiki intensified.

"Hey! If you're so dead set on him talking to someone, why don't you do it?"

Kasumi bit her lip, "I would... but I shouldn't deny you the chance to make this better."

'Make things all better?' Synapses fired in her head, reviewing what had just taken place until she reached a conclusion.

"How was I-- There was no-- arrgh, all right!" Nabiki stamped her foot on the floor, though not hard enough to make a loud thud. Kasumi was implying that it was her fault, and a small part of her agreed regardless of whether or not what had happened to him was her doing. "How long do you think we should wait?" She said, shoulders drooping.

The pressure she had been emitting suddenly gone. Kasumi cutely put a finger to her bottom lip. "Half an hour should be enough. I'll go make some tea!"

Kasumi left to make tea, leaving Nabiki to regain her mental balance. The woman could be scary at times.

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Ranma lay on his side atop his futon, blanket strewn to the side, unblinking. It was half-past ten and he was exhausted, yet his eyes refused to droop even a little. The sound of the door opening behind him was followed by a soft metallic ring. His hand instinctively shot out, catching the object without looking. Bringing the object to his face, he made out an image of a Buddhist temple embossed on coppery metal.

"Ten yen for your thoughts?" came Nabiki's voice.

With some resistance, he forced himself to roll over then sit cross-legged. The middle daughter was leaning against the doorframe, one hand propped on her hip.

"Ten yen?" Ranma eyed her questioningly.

Nabiki shrugged. "So I'm feeling generous."

Ranma put a hand on his neck. "Yeah... well, not that I'm complaining or nothin', but what are you doing here? If this is about the scarf, I did the best I could." He paused. "I guess you're not gonna cancel what I owe. Could you at least let me off with a warning?" Had the day gone differently, Ranma probably would have been disgusted at his pleading, but he really wanted her to go away.

"Scarf?" Nabiki blinked. "I haven't checked, honestly. I'm pretty sure it didn't get damaged, but I'm not here for that. What's wrong, Saotome?"

"Why are you so interested?" Ranma regarded her with a sideways glance. "I'm already broke."

"Kasumi thinks I'm the one at fault." Nabiki ran a hand through her hair. "She's not going to let up until I've done what she wants. Worse, she might get mad, and trust me, that won't be pretty."

Nabiki looked away, but not fast enough to avoid letting Ranma see her grimace. If he was right, she thought she had revealed too much. It was the first time he was truly sure that Nabiki had lost control of her mouth. Why? She couldn't really be worried about him, could she?

She didn't deserve forgiveness, not after all that crap she'd pulled, but Kasumi was behind her offer to listen, and.... Ranma took a mental step back, clearing away all the nonsense. This whole incident has taught him a lot of very crucial things about himself. This was his home, and the people in it, he wanted to believe, would not truly let him down.

"Back when I was hiding from mom, you said things to her that could have gotten me killed--"

"You're still dwelling on that?" Nabiki interrupted, "And people call me petty. Get over it, Saotome."

"Let me finish, dangit!" Ranma snapped. It was hard enough to do this without her acting all defensive. He eyed her wearily. She didn't open her mouth again. Did his frustration finally reach her?

"When Akane asked you why you did it, were you telling the truth?"

"What is this?" Nabiki stopped leaning on the door frame and glared. "Twenty Questions? What does this have to do with what happened today? If you don't want to tell me, then fine, but you better tell Kasumi that I fixed things or you'll pay."

"Answer me, Nabiki. Were you telling the truth?" Ranma met eyes head on. Maybe he should have gone to Kasumi, it would have been easier than this.

"About forgiving you for 250 yen?" Nabiki said lightly, "Why of course. In fact, I'm willing to let it go right now if you hand it over."

"That's not what I'm asking and you know it." He just couldn't understand why she was like this. The more he dug, the more she tried to hold out against him. How could she be so maddeningly stubborn?

"I suppose you want me to tell you that it wasn't an act," she said flatly. "That I really missed my mom and that I did want you to meet your mom as yourself."

Ranma reeled back, thinking that she really had been pretending, and she was nothing more than a cold bitch, and then something she said clicked.

"You wouldn't sell your forgiveness cheap, Tendo Nabiki."

Nabiki looked at him wide eyed before she smiled bemusedly. "Just when I thought I had you pegged, you pull this. I was mostly annoyed about how you were wasting the chance to meet your mom. She wouldn't have forced you to commit ritual suicide...probably."

"Words cannot describe how much you suck," Ranma said with little heat. "Will you promise that you won't use anything you hear against me? Will you swear it on your bank account?"

"My bank account?" Nabiki put a finger to her bottom lip. "That's a pretty heavy oath you're asking... I'm not sure I'm can commit--"

"Swear it!"

"Okay, fine. I swear, I swear." Nabiki . "So what's with all the buildup? It better be huge if you're going through all this trouble."

Ranma took a deep breath. "I'm gonna be an actress."

The arm Nabiki had on her waist slipped. She stared at Ranma for a moment, wide eyed, before pulling the door open yelling out, "Kasumi--!"

Ranma had scrambled to block the last of what Nabiki was going to say with a hand to her mouth, dragging her back into the room and locking the door with a toe to the knob as he did so.

"What the heck are you doing?!" He let go of Nabiki's mouth and unconsciously wiped the hand on his shirt, eliciting a frown from the middle Tendo.

Nabiki crossed her arms. "Getting some help in case you've finally gone crazy?"

Ranma sat back down on his futon, hands braced against his knees. "I can explain. Just give me a chance, will you?"

There was a knock on that door. "Nabiki? Ranma?" Kasumi probed. "Is everything all right?"

He could tell from the way Nabiki was tapping a finger on one arm that she was considering her options. Ranma silently mouthed the word 'please', and put his hands together to beg her.

Finally, Nabiki rubbed her forehead and said, "Yeah, Kasumi. Everything's under control."

"Okay," Kasumi said after a moment of silence, "I'll be downstairs though if you need anything."

"We're fine," Ranma said, genuinely grateful for her concern. "Thanks, Kasumi."

Ranma breathed a sigh of relief at the softening footfalls away from his room.

Nabiki cleared her throat. "Well?"

"Ah... yeah, that." Ranma fiddled with his blanket. "I met this woman at the station." He paused. "Hey Nabiki, you watch TV drama's right? Does Murasaki Sayaka ring a bell?"

"No idea. I watch a few shows, but I'm no drama hound. We could ask Kasumi, but I doubt she'd recognize the name either. She mostly watches documentaries and cooking shows. Akane?"

Ranma grimaced. He supposed they would all find out sooner or later. On the other hand, he really wanted to put it off as much as possible. It wasn't like he could just back out of the bargain.

"Okay, you saw Murasaki Sayaka at the station?" Nabiki prodded. "What's the big deal?"

"She... jumped." Ranma said, poking at his futon. "I was there Nabiki, I saw her jump. It's different from my challenges; blood there just washes off, and... it never got so bad that someone got really hurt." Ranma laughed humorlessly. "I never thought of it that way before. All this time, I knew that the art was dangerous. I tried to keep to clearings and stuff, but I never tried very hard. What if--- what if Hiro or Dai got hurt? Sayuri? Yuka? Maybe even your friends... or Kasumi? I get challenged here all the time."

"Get a hold of yourself, Saotome," Nabiki's cut in. "You're being stupid, even for you. How did you jump from what Murasaki Sayaka did to your fights? You know what you're doing. Remember when the balcony gave out and you caught me?"

"Akane--"

"Is a trained martial artist," she finished his sentence. "She was fine. There's absolutely no connection. You said she jumped, Ranma, on her own, without any involvement on your part.... you did have nothing to do with her jumping, right?" she added with a hint of doubt.

"Of course not!" Ranma stood to face Nabiki, and realized that there wasn't a trace of suspicion in her eyes. It had been to bring him out of his funk, though hell would freeze over before he thanked her for it.

"I saved her. She'd be a lot worse off than in a coma if I hadn't caught her after the train hit." He said, trying to suppress the memories of that damp, limp body in his arms.

"At least she's alive," Nabiki mused. "Why didn't you just run?"

"I couldn't!" Ranma held his head in his hands. "No one would take her, and I was didn't want to make her worse. I had to wait for the paramedics and cops to come."

Nabiki tisked. "Gullible as ever I see."

Ranma palmed his forehead, looking dejected. "Running would have made them even more suspicious."

"Moving on," Nabiki said. "What does this have to do with you becoming an actress?"

"I was getting to that," Ranma grumped. "She looks like me. It's like someone took my face, changed the hair and eye colors, and then aged it a few years."

Nabiki tilted her head. "That doesn't make it sound as if there'd be much of a resemblance."

"It was enough that some cop decided we were related," Ranma said, frowning. "He didn't believe that I'd never seen her before. Oh, right..." Ranma hopped over to a pile of clothes that he had left in the corner. Digging out the shirt that he had been wearing, he put a hand into one pocket. "I forgot. The agent gave me one of these-- didn't think I'd need it." He handed Nabiki a new but wrinkled picture.

Nabiki sat down on the floor heavily, picture grasped in hand. "Gee Ranma, it's never boring with you is it? I can't say I see what you do, but there's definitely a strong resemblance there."

"This isn't the same." Ranma clenched his fists. "She's not some shadow, incense, or mirror clone. She isn't even like Copycat Ken."

"Who?"

"The practitioner of martial mimicry who's able to copy moves and physical appearances by taking pictures."

"Nope, doesn't ring a bell." Nabiki responded.

"C'mon!" Ranma threw up his hands. "He can't be that hard to remember. For crying out loud, you can give me the amount I owe you down to the yen. How come you can't even remember someone who can change into the old freak with the whirl of a cloth?"

"Oh?" Nabiki arched an eyebrow. "There are a lot of weirdoes that come this way. I can't be expected to keep track of them all. If your memory is so good, why don't you prove it by showing me that you know something that'll actually help make your life easier?"

"Like what?" Ranma asked skeptically. Remembering fighting styles was important; it was the key to surviving whatever new exotic techniques were thrown his way. He remembered plenty of useful things.

"I don't know... Akane's birthday, for instance?"

"Hah, that's easy!" he began, "It's... uhh, March. No. Ferbruary-- dangit, this is no time for that!"

The self-satisfied look on Nabiki's face told him that he had lost despite his efforts to cover up. Cutting his losses, he went on, "She's real, Nabiki. I can't fight this with the art, and I'm not sure I'm ready. Her life is already messing with mine. I was being grilled by some cop when her agent bailed me out, a pretty boy who introduced himself as Kogino Jin. He played along with the cop's suspicions before bringing in a lawyer. It all happened so fast."

"It would be pretty bad if you appeared on national television as Soatome Ranma. I'm not eager to find out how many fiancées Uncle Genma set up are still searching for you." Switching topics she said, "I'm guessing he stuck you with the role of playing a relative of Murasaki Sayaka."

"Ugh, how could I forget about the fiancées? Stupid Pop." Ranma shook his head. "No, I'm more than a relative; I'm her illegitimate half-sister. As far as the family registries are concerned, I'm Murasaki Ranko. Since mom never registered my girl side, no one will be able to dispute it. My reward, if you can call it that, is full control of the identity-- birth certificate, social insurance number, the whole package."

Nabiki whistled. "He arranged this all within half a day?"

"Yeah..." Ranma said, "He has a friend at the registrar's, and he said he has the means to get the other stuff done after, which I don't doubt. He needs them to keep up appearances. The man's not normal. I tried to get him to come off the stupid actress idea by showing him I was really a guy, but he waved it off like it was nothing, saying that 'he could still use me.'

Everything's a series of calculations. Murasaki Sayaka's blood is still hot on the pavement, and he moves on like it was business as usual. There's no way to run either. Kogino Jin told me flat out that if I don't hold up my end, he'll reveal Murasaki Ranko as a fake and that I had something to do with Murasaki Sayaka's attempted suicide. That cop at the station seemed like he was gunning for me too. Considering how much I've already seen him do, Kogino Jin might be able to make good on his threat."

"He might be bluffing." Nabiki tapped her chin. "Do you have any proof he isn't just playing you?"

Ranma frowned. He hadn't considered that before. "We visited the lady working as a registrar at her place. The forms I filled out looked official, and she had a professional setup ready to take my picture."

Nabiki shook her head. "Not good enough. She may have been in on the con. Do you remember the address?"

"Err... I could take you there, but I don't have the address. She said she'd have something ready by tomorrow though."

"That's no good. I can't verify your info by then." Nabiki sighed. "You've really stepped into it, Saotome. You could go back to the police, I suppose-- reveal the truth before Jin does so he has no leverage. Then again, without a new identity to cover your tracks, your curse will be all over the news. Can you trust him to keep his word at least?"

Ranma nodded, "For now. He's going to use me until either Murasaki Sayaka wakes or when I'm good enough to act as the lead in a project he'd been working on. He didn't tell me what kind of project it was, but he did say that it was going to be a period drama. I don't want the others to meet him though. I can tell he's not evil, but he's not going to shy away from using any of you as leverage against me, or as another piece in whatever other plans he may have."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"I have to meet him tomorrow morning to start learning how to become an actress. Can you cover for me?"

"Won't be too difficult." Nabiki said. "It's better that no one else gets involved. If he's as good as you say he is, it'll be a huge headache for me in the long run. Well, first things first. Dad and Uncle Saotome will probably be hung over and I'll take care of it if they wake too early. Akane's a little too nosy though. You'll owe me big for keeping her in the dark. When are you meeting up?"

"6 o'clock at the empty lot overlooking the city."

"Remember to get some proof that he can create an identity for you from scratch. If he backs out of giving you anything tomorrow, I'd consider it's a pretty safe bet he isn't legit. I don't want to do all this work for nothing."

She reached for the door. "Get some sleep-- it's your ass on the line and you should be awake to cover it. You really are much more trouble than you're worth."

Ranma stuck his tongue out at her. "I'll try not to be too much of a bother."

Nabiki chuckled. "Seriously though, be careful, Saotome-- for all our sakes."

"I'll will," Ranma hesitated, "Nabiki? When is Akane's birthday?"

She held out an open palm. "1000 yen."

Ranma half-heartedly threw a pillow at Nabiki's retreating form.

Surprisingly, after talking things through, the whole mess didn't seem so bad. Nabiki was on his side... not in the way that he'd wanted, but at least she wouldn't cause too many problems. While he couldn't find a fix yet, he'd get even with Kogino Jin eventually. It also wouldn't hurt to pray for Murasaki Sayaka to wake soon."

Author's Notes:

Thanks to my main prereaders Fallacy and Yasuhei.

A special thanks to all the people at the Fukufics and TFF forums who've spent effort of giving me constructive criticisms and corrections. This fic wouldn't be even half the quality it is now without them. I promise I'll keep better track of names for chapter 2.

contributors: Tari F (corrections)


	3. Chapter 3

Author's foreword: Here is the next part of my continued battle against the forces of Ranma-chan fiction. Comments and constructive criticism will be greatly appreciated.

Disclaimer: I don't own Ranma 1/2

Electronic bleating knocked Yonehara Satomi from the depths of slumber, half way into the waking world. She resisted at first, pushing her head back deeper into the pillow, but already her bleary, lucid consciousness prodded insistently. 'You will get up at the count of ten,' her mother used to say every morning. It had been five years after her passing, yet she could still hear that gentle yet unbending voice.

She reached out from beneath the covers and hit the alarm. Beside the clock was a picture of a plain-looking woman in a blue sundress. 'Goodmorning, mother,' she greeted.

With automated ease, she folded her blanket, set out her clothes for the day, washed up, and ran through some calisthenics. Usually, her morning routine would have gotten her blood running enough to jump start the rest of the day, but that wasn't going to happen today. Her eyes remained red and puffy despite the repeated and liberal application of cold water, and her muscles seemed to creak with every movement. She could go back to sleep-- surely no one would miss her for just one day….

'You have responsibilities,' the more sensible part of her insisted. Glancing at the photograph on her night stand for some additional strength, she gritted her teeth and jerked off her night gown, which was replaced by a pleated, white blouse, and long skirt. She checked herself front to back on the mirror for wrinkles, not a stitch out of place.

She was the headmistress of Gekkou Academy, a small acting college founded nearly 30 years ago. Converted from the grounds of an abandoned private school, it had become a combination of acting studio and dorm. A scant 73 students had enrolled for the year, but that number would rise.

Sitting down in front of the dresser mirror, she set about combing her wavy, black hair. Picking the comb out of her dresser drawer, she stroked once, and then twice, thrice, and so on. But on the twentieth stroke, the comb clattered on floor. Satomi put a trembling hand to her face, spread fingers pressing hard against her skin, straining to stem the frustration that surged in her like the waters of a breached dam.

The authorities had called her yesterday and informed her of Sayaka's status and not much else. One of her closest friends had just tried to take her own life, but she couldn't even get the address of the hospital to see her. Unable to do anything of importance, she was with nothing save her tears and the uneasy darkness of tormented slumber.

There was no doubt that Jin had something to do with Sayaka's attempt. Satomi had known that the man was a poison to her friend since the moment she laid eyes on him. He suffused every corner of Sayaka's being, concentrating most of all in her friend's heart.

Jin would be the death of Sayaka, she had predicted and it seemed that she was right. She had tried since the years they had together as acting colleagues to cure her of him. She hadn't succeeded in the least, and it looked like she may have just run out of chances.

Prying her hand away, she breathed deep. Sayaka was still alive. There was still hope. She picked her comb off the floor and continued her preparations. One stroke at a time, she'd take this on one stroke at a time.

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Draw the Curtain: Chapter 2

By

ToastedPine

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Birds chirped, greeting the early sun. It was six. In half an hour, the tofu-racing delivery men of Nerima would have completed their morning routes and returned to the tamer aspects of businesses. Speeding through dangerous back streets and narrow alleys would be put aside until the next morning.

Unlike these industrious men, Ranma was not delivering nutritious foodstuffs. Instead, she had just finished checking on her mother who was overseeing the reconstruction of their recently demolished home. Her mother had received her enthusiastically. Their house was going to be better than ever. Ranma could have told her what had happened recently, but decided against it. She told herself that it was best not to cause undue worrying.

As she sped over rooftops and fences, she tried to squash the dark feeling that gurgled at the pit of her stomach like so much of Akane's curry.

When she landed at the empty lot, Kogino Jin was resting against the bumper of his white sports car, gazing as the tips of scattered rooftops almost glowed under touch of dew and sunlight.

"Looking down from here, I could almost believe that the world were innocent."

Ranma raised an eyebrow. He tended to spit mysterious nonsense out every once in a while. It must have something to do with being a brooding pretty-boy.

Kogino Jin regarded Ranma out the corner of one eye. "Your social security card is on the dashboard."

Ranma jogged over and lifted the pale blue and white plastic card. She grimaced at the ID picture, which vaguely resembled a mug shot. As fitting as it was, she would have preferred to look good. She had standards, after all.

"So," she began, "why are we here so early? Don't tell me you wanted to take in the sights."

"I'm sure you would enjoy that." He smirked. "We may even have a date, you and I. Perhaps you could introduce me to your friends as a dangerous older gentleman."

"Yes we could!" Ranma said, putting her hands in prayer like a maiden in prayer, eyes sparkling, before switching to a deadpan, "then you can help me find a rope so I can dangle from it."

"Just as well" he said, pushing off the hood and getting into the driver's seat, "we have more immediate concerns"

Ranma jumped in as the engine rumbled to life. "Where are we going?" she asked.

"To meet an old friend."

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Silence wrapped the car like hot rice around a pickled plum. Ranma fidgeted in her seat, trying and failing to preoccupy her thoughts until the ride was over. When they first met, Hiro and Dai had treating her as though she were a venerable martial master. Apparently, the great masters could contemplate the art, refining their forms through 'mental kata'. She sniffed at that—why would anyone sit around thinking of doing the art instead of actually doing it? Besides, meditation was a quick way to fall asleep. If something like meditating on the art could lead to getting stronger, her father wouldn't be running with his tail between his legs whenever the old freak comes to visit. Now wasn't the time for sleep anyhow; who knows what the agent could get up to while she was defenseless beside him?

As Kogino Jin seamlessly shifted gears and avoided potholes, Ranma concentrated on spotting memorable landmarks and potential training areas. So far, she spotted none of either. They hadn't gone far enough to reach the woods, just out of the city proper. Stray trees and fields of fields of weed grass had replaced the dense cityscape.

"You're going to meet a very dear friend of Sayaka's," the agent said. "Don't speak unless you absolutely have to."

Ranma turned to him, a little startled by his change of mood. When they had left the lot, Kogino Jin was in a…playful mood. The agent prodded at her with implications about her sexual preferences. It rubbed her severely because he reminded her of a cat that was toying with its prey. Now all of a sudden, he was all business again, like when they had first met. Maybe the man was crazy; it would certainly explain a lot.

"Yeah, whatever," she said, realizing too late that a little of the irritation she felt had crept into her voice.

Kogino Jin's eyes instantly hardened, sunlight reflecting off them like a razors edge. "I don't like being interrupted, Saotome Ranma. This meeting is important to me. It is imperative that you pay attention because the price of failure is very very high."

She tightened her grip on the seatbelt strap across her chest. "Is that a threat?"

"I don't care how you take it so long as you fulfill your role. You may be able to beat me black and blue, but you should remember that I can also hurt you back. The loan application your mother has pending could fall though if I take a hand in her credit evaluation."

"What's your deal, Kogino?" she said, getting the hint that he must have investigated her somehow. "You shouldn't mess with a man's family."

"Man?" he asked with a trace of mocking laughter. "I don't see a man here-- only a weak teenager. You could have weathered this storm on your own, but instead you let your fear tie you into indecision, making the police suspicious. I might have made your life difficult out of spite for refusing me, but you could have faced that too. I saw the type of person you were the moment our eyes met. And after reading up on your life I know why: you habitually run from consequences. When I offered you an exit, you ran towards it like the building was on fire."

She slammed a palm on the dashboard and using it to push myself closer. "Bull, I've faced plenty of challenges on my own!"

"Martial challenges, with nothing more at stake that your petty life. Dying is easy; it's living that's hard."

"Watch it pal, you're about to find out just how easy it can be."

The car slowed as he pulled it to the curb. Kogino Jin took of his seatbelt and squared off against her. "You won't kill me," he said with cold certainty. "You won't kill me for the same reason why you took my offer to give you a new identity and shield you from having to deal with the police, for the same reason why you won't make a decision about those girls that you've been stringing along. You won't kill me not because of any inherent sense of decency, but because you'd do anything to avoid facing the consequences of your actions.

He pulled away, suddenly looking really tired. "Now that the immediate danger has passed, you've gone back to running, hoping your problems will sort themselves out without much effort on your part. I'm saying this to remind you that danger still exists and I intend to punctuate that danger myself if I have to so that you don't forget. But don't be too concerned, I'm still giving you an out. Work with me, help me reach my aims, and this incident with Sayaka will blow over, and I will disappear."

The dashboard creaked under the pressure of Ranma's hand. "And if I don't?"

"Then you can live the rest of your life in the woods, because there will be no place for you to call home when I'm done."

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They pulled into an open courtyard above faded white lines that hinted at a past as a basketball court and a track field. They were in the outskirts of the city where dense insides of Tokyo gave way to sparse vegetation and smaller buildings.

Overlooking the courtyard was a school building. Ranma narrowed her eyes to block out the sun that was coming through the windshield. She had come across such structures often enough in her travels. They were quite a bit smaller than Furinkan since they were designed for areas with comparatively low population density. Quite a few she'd come across were abandoned, their boards and slats left to rot and splinter, their floors left to crack beneath the assault of weeds. She'd heard Hinako saying something about falling birth rates were to blame.

She and Pop had used the old buildings in their travels. Dead schools were a good source of shelter and kindling, but she also couldn't help being uncomfortable at how abandoned such places were.

The building in before her was far from abandoned, however. Ranma watched a few people milling out of a square building adjacent to the high school, which would normally be treated as the club building. Men and women carrying their loads of towels and toiletries marched like ants in a loose line towards the side of the building that faced a grass field of modest size.

Kogino Jin swept out of the car as though it were a white carriage. Maybe there was a school of Martial Arts Posing and Looking Cool. How else would anyone explain a white jacket billowing dramatically while the air around him was as still as a rock?

Ranma propped an arm against the open window and vaulted over. She landed soundlessly on the asphalt and strode after the agent.

The sounds of water flowing and splashing about mingled among the lively sounds of early morning conversation. About 20 meters away, the men and women-- students, Ranma assumed-- were engaged in their morning rituals like a bunch of wildlife around a watering hole. Kogino Jin, however, had no interest in them. Tracing his line of sight just beyond the common faucets, Ranma saw a woman standing apart from the rest. She had several years over the students. Her rather plain face and build was tempered by the aura of authority that wrapped around her as though she were a mother eagle watching over her chicks.

Unfortunately, the eagle that had been at rest spotted them, and the aura of protectiveness shifted into one of menace. Ranma had seen it often enough from Akane, when she got mad at her for picking on P-chan. A shard of ice lanced through Ranma's spine and she decided to reevaluate; Akane's anger was a cheery campfire compared to the frigid rage that she was feeling.

The woman marched through the throng of students, nodding only faintly to greetings addressed to her as she passed.

"What are you doing here?" She demanded in a voice as calm as the epicenter of a massive earthquake.

"To ask for a favor." Kogino Jin's frigid nonchalance seemed to buffet him from the woman's cold anger.

"You have some nerve," her voice rumbled, cracks appearing on the surface. "Not a week after Sayaka's accident and you've already got a replacement toy?" She sneered in Ranko's direction, never taking her diamond glare off the agent.

"Attempted suicide," he corrected, impassive. "Let's not try to cover up the truth with pretty words, Satomi."

"I don't remember giving you permission to address me informally," she said.

"I don't remember asking."

"Bastard," she bit off before stomping towards the main building.

Ranma looked up and saw a magnificently smug grin. Had the agent won that exchange she wondered? And who was that flat, farmer's wife calling a toy?

"That, would be our invitation to tea." He strolled after the irate woman.

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It was a modest office furnished with practical furniture that had probably spent part of its life folded into a thin box of maddeningly German design. Ranma knew this because there was a computer table in Nabiki's room that Ranma had nearly given to Akane as practice bricks-- he'd lost and broken a lot of screws that day.

Large, plastic, filing cabinets lined a majority of the walls where musty old book cases where there weren't. Ranma briefly received the impression of a square pit trap that closed in and squished things.

Headmistress Yonehara, according to the gilded lettering on her office door, pulled a leather seat from a small work desk facing the window and sat down with the weight of a queen setting herself on her throne. Kogino sat as well, completely dispensing with rules of propriety. Ranma remained standing. She could have taken a seat too, really, but cheap furniture looked uncomfortable.

"If you want me to train her personally, you can forget it," she said, and sized up Ranko. "Many girls come running to me, thinking they can be big stars just because they have a pretty face and breasts. This girl doesn't have a shred of talent! I could read her like a book from the moment she arrived." She glared at Ranma, "And take your seat young lady. Don't you have a spine, or does your agent here do all the sticking up for you?"

Twitch. Enough was enough, Ranma, totally red-faced, rolled up her sleeves. She's been keeping her mouth shut because this lady was mad at Kogino Jin, but no way in hell was she going to let this hag think she was doing THAT with HIM. She hadn't even really touched a girl yet!

A chuckle interrupted her thoughts, building into a rich, throaty laugh. It was coming from Kogino Jin whose eyes danced with some dark amusement.

Headmistress Yonehara snarled. "I fail to see what's so amusing."

He laughed until he was content before speaking. "That's the last thing that could ever happen, Satomi. If you weren't so blinded by your intense... feelings for me, you would have seen right away that Ranko shares your sentiments."

"You don't like him?" the woman asked.

"No!" Ranma shouted "I'd throw him off a building if I could!"

The headmistress colored.

"Maybe I came to the wrong person." He pivoted lazily in his chair. "Missing such obvious undercurrents is an amateurish mistake for a well seasoned actress."

"Don't think wounding my pride will serve your ends," she said levelly.

Ranma bit her lip; was that Kogino's game?

"You misunderstand again, I'm afraid." He stood up and moved close enough that their noses almost touched. "I only back real talent. This girl," he gestured at Ranma, "is Sayaka's estranged sister."

"Murasaki Ranko, pleasure meeting you." Ranma hated playing along, but Kogino Jin had been clear about what would happen if she acted on her impulses.

"That's a lie, Sayaka would have mentioned having a sister!"

"Sixteen years ago, Murasaki Yui starred in a movie. She played a woman who fell in love with a powerful, Norwegian merchant and had a child by him before he disappeared. It was years later when she found him again, discovering that her love had all but forgotten about her and was about to marry another. Like the fragile wings of a butterfly, her heart was crushed and she died from the pain shortly after."

"The filming staff all had to be sworn under oath to keep the truth about Murasaki Yui's pregnancy a secret. And a closely guarded secret it was. I wouldn't have known had it not been for Ranko's appearance."

"She was pregnant? That's impossible. She was devoted to her husband--"

"Who had died three months prior to the shoot. We're all human. She was lonely and ashamed of not being able to care for her own daughter…."

"But Sayaka told me that her mother had done it to concentrate on her acting. Murasaki Yui even dedicated her performance to her husband."

"Yes, the perfect widow wasn't she?" he asked.

He took a lock of the headmistress's hair between his fingers, running his hand over it as if he were sampling the fabric on a shirt, "So much so that it was almost like... an act?"

The headmistress pushed at his chest, stumbling back.

Kogino Jin patted himself down and straightened his cuffs. "Perhaps I am feeding you an elaborate lie. However, I might also be telling the truth. Do you really believe that she told you everything? Do you really believe that Sayaka would not have confided in me some secret detail she's told no one else?" He glanced at Ranma out the corner of his eyes. "Could you really forgo knowing her sister?"

The headmistress looked at him defiantly, but Kogino Jin seemed undaunted. Closing in once more, he put his lips to her ear, whispering loud enough for Ranma to hear. "Remember that Sayaka is mine. Forever."

Ranma could almost swear she heard the sound of a heavy coffin lid slam shut at his words.

"…how long do I have?" the headmistress finally asked.

"Two months."

"Give me two years and she can become a professional."

"No. She doesn't need to be good, just acceptable."

Headmistress Yonehara drew herself up and glared at him as though she intended to melt him into a puddle of wax. "I will talk to her."

Kogino merely grinned and bowed. "As you wish, Headmistress." Turning to Ranma, he said, "Meet me at the courtyard by four."

123123

Ranma stuck her tongue out at the closing door. Akane would have called it childish, she was sure, but it felt good.

"I suppose it's too much to ask that you too were putting on a act."

Oh right. She hadn't been alone. Ranma turned around, the left corner of her lip lifting like the arm of a spastic monkey trying to get a banana on a tree. "Act? What act?"

The headmistress sighed. It was a very heavy sigh. On the scale of sighs Ranma's ever heard, it beat the heaviest she'd heard to date by a ton or two. "I guess it was."

They stared at each other for a long while before the head mistress raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

"Well what?" Ranma asked, feeling just a little out of her element.

The headmistress made a grumbling noise. "You're here to become an actress so show me what you've got. I'm assuming that you have prepared an audition to give me an idea of what I have to work with—"

A lot of frustration had built up in Ranma, so much of it in fact, that she felt the need to do something –anything—to find some release. The result was Ranma building a small balcony of piled furniture, mimicking the only approximation of 'real acting' she'd seen in her limited experience of the craft.

"Oh, Romeo!" She enunciated in a voice so loud she could have been yelling. Her arms spread out as if trying to catch an extremely fat, landing bird. "Wherefore art thou Romeo?!"

It was Akane's Juliet.

"—and the idea of what I have to work with is garbage. Complete and utterly irredeemable garbage," the headmistress finished.

"I ain't here because I want to be," Ranma snapped.

"Oh? Then why are you here?"

The question hit like a bucket of freezing water. What was she supposed to tell her? The truth? She'd be too angry to think straight. Next thing Ranma knew, the headmistress would be chewing Jin out. The jig would be up, and she'd be screwed.

Kogino made it perfectly clear that he would do more than reveal the curse.

Ranma had no doubt that the Social Security Card resting in her pocket would pass inspection. Even if it didn't, she no longer felt that enough to write Kogino off.

The agent was wrong about her though. She didn't want the police involved because she didn't want to drag her mom and the Tendos into this mess. She could face up to her problems without their help.

She didn't need anyone poking their noses in where they didn't belong, making a fuss and getting in trouble for her sake. If any of the Tendos got hurt, she'd never live it down. This was her fight anyways. Akane expected her to keep from getting between her and Kuno, so there was no reason why it shouldn't go the other way around.

"Sorry Headmistress," Ranma said, bending at the waist and trying to ignore bitter taste in her mouth. "I'm here because I want to be an actress. I leave myself humbly in your care."

There was a moment of deliberation before the headmistress spoke.

"Stand Ms. Ranko. We have much to do and cannot afford to dally with formalities." To Ranma's surprise, not a trace of frost remained from earlier. "Sayaka's sister or not, if I can keep just one girl from falling into that man's clutches, I'd be able to go to the grave in peace."

She stepped over to her desk. "I have registration papers. We have a mere two months to make you barely adequate. Commuting will be out of the question so you will have to take up residence here."

"Me? Live here?" Ranma pointed up at herself.

The headmistress, who was flipping through a stack of sheets, stared flatly. "Is that a problem?"

Ranma swallowed. "No ma'am."

"Good… there should be some dormitory as well here." A few more brisk pulling motions later, she had the paperwork out. "You'll have one day to straighten out your affairs. I'll brief you on the conditions that apply, and then you'll have to pry the fee off Jin later. I expect the full amount up front.

When we're done here, I will tour you through the campus."

"Yes ma'am."

123123

Classes were in full session by the time Ranma had finished all the procedures with the headmistress, or rather, Murasaki Ranko. Filling out the forms was touch-and-go for a while since the only identification she had was the social security card she had received earlier. Ranma was left sweating until that jerk Kogino Jin called to inform them that her high school transcripts would be brought over at the end of the day. She had no doubt the agent had forgotten to tell her about that little detail on purpose!

She turned to watch a dance class through the window. Ranma looked dubiously at the men loose shirts over black spandex.

"I haven't decided how you'll be taking your classes. For a normal student, two months wouldn't be enough to develop the basics let alone advanced skills needed by a passable actress."

She grimaced.

"Quiting is always an option. Tell Jin that you'll have no part of whatever he's plotting. If you still want to be an actress, then I'll train you properly without him breathing down our necks."

Ranma averted her eyes. Did Kogino Jin's blind assumptions have some truth to them? No way in hell. She was doing this for everyone else's good. "It has to be done."

The headmistress sighed. "All right, I won't try to ask any more of you. My door is open if you ever want to talk."

"…thanks."

"There are a few more places for us to visit. As I was saying earlier, acting isn't simply a game of pretend. There's a lot an actress has to prepare performing. We also offer help with portfolios. Ms. Aihara Mari, our public relations officer, is in charge of maintaining links with all the various agencies. To the left is our fitness center and the hall beyond leads to our recording studio," the headmistress paused, "by an anonymous private donor."

123123

After the tour, they visited the cafeteria, which was located on the bottom floor on one of the dorm buildings. It was only a quarter of the size of the Furinkan's, and there wasn't much separating the kitchen from it except for a makeshift buffet table with heat lamps and steel warming trays.

"Headmistress Yonehara!" a cheery voice greeted. "You're here early." It was a woman in her early twenties. She was wearing a hairnet over long, brown hair that she had tied into a pair of ponytails.

"I hope that isn't a problem," the headmistress said apologetically. "Do you have enough ready for two?"

"Certainly! A new student? You hardly ever show them around yourself anymore."

The headmistress cleared her throat. "Yes, this is Ranko. She'll be starting Friday." She turned to Ranma. "This is Alicia, our head cafeteria lady."

Alicia's eyes were a bright hazel, and the bridge of her nose had a light dusting of freckles— traits not commonly found on the average Japanese person.

"Nice to meet you." She wiped a hand off on her apron and held it out. Ranma shook it. "Ranko?" Alicia tilted her head to one side. "That's a very Japanese name."

She chuckled nervously. "I've lived here practically all my life."

Alicia put a hand to her mouth. "Oh how rude of me-- with your hair and eyes, I just assumed."

"Her father is a foreigner," the headmistress supplied. Though the raised eyebrow she directed at her without Alicia noticing indicated that there would be more questions later.

"Yeah, something like that," Ranma said, scratching the back of her head.

"No need to be embarrassed," she chirped. "I'm from Canada, my family moved here almost 6 years ago."

"What am I doing? Lunch isn't going to prepare itself. Have a seat wherever you like and I'll have two trays sent to you shortly." She herded them to the tables without further delay got back to the kitchen.

After a few minutes some kitchen other staff rested a tray of roast chicken leg and a side of carrots, peas, and potatoes on their table.

"Many of the services here are student run with a smaller professional contingent to provide training and support. In exchange, the students who have roles here gain beneficial experience and partial scholarships. Alicia is one of those students. She's studying to become a voice actress, though with her talents, I'm hoping that she'll try the stage."

Ranma speared some of it onto her fork and chewed, carefully minding her manners. The flavors were surprisingly bright and fresh unlike the colorless food available at Furinkan. "Hmm, not bad."

"The produce is from suppliers and farms nearby," the headmistress said with a hint of pride. "I come here for my meals to check the quality of the food and keep the salt content low. We must reflect the principles of this school in all aspects. We build solid foundations in our students, and a large part of that foundation resides in our students' health.'

"Ah," Ranma 'ahed', not able to say much else. She had always eaten whatever she could get her hands on. The amount of salt in her food didn't concern her as much as actually having something to eat. Of course, that changed a little when she started living at the Dojo, but the Saotome Iron Gut and palate had been honed by years of eating on the run and wild foraging."

"Who was your father?" the headmistress asked suddenly.

Ranma jerked as if shocked. "Ah…"

"Nevermind," the headmistress said. "I was just checking."

Ranma visibly sagged with relief. What had this woman been checking?

"But…"the headmistress continued, causing Ranma to curse internally. She knew there was going to be a 'but'.

"But I'm taking quite a leap of faith, giving you training without knowing the knowing the least bit about you, while everything about me is out in the open. I'm going to need something in return. If you can tell me nothing of who you are, then you can at least show me the strength of your character."

Ranma looked into her empty tray. She didn't want to be here, but she had to earn this woman's trust. "Deal. What do you need me to do?"

She smiled. "No hesitation. Good. Then this is what I want you to do…."

Author's Notes: Special thanks to Fallacy for prereading and Yasuhei and Rain for comments.

TheFanfictionForum Corrections: Genhoss

Fukufic Corrections: Munchkin, Ellen Kuhfeld

Fanfiction is all about you, the reader, so feel free to invite a few of your friends and pull up a chair. I'll be here to listen.


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